A Pound of My Flesh
by HorrorZombabe
Summary: Alistair is scorned at the Landsmeet and Elven Warden Allana Tabris is tasked with saving Ferelden from the Blight alongside Wardens Loghain and Riordan. Their worlds are falling apart as the ones they thought they loved show a different side.
1. Chapter 1: Landsmeet

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age and write this work on my own accord, earning no profit.

AN: I am beginning this work at the Landsmeet, as we all know what happens up to this time. Gather armies, recruit new party members, blah blah blah. I'm not here to retell the story. My morph begins at the defeat of Loghain.

**Chapter One: Landsmeet**

"I underestimated you, Warden. I thought you were like Cailan - a child wanting to play at war," Loghain spoke, the hall filled with tension as he stood. "I was wrong," he sighed, "There's a strength in you I have not seen anywhere since Maric died. I yield."

Allana's arm hang limply at her side until those two fateful words. She was so close; she could get revenge for those lost at Ostagar - but at what cost? _It is too late to abandon the plan now, _she thought. Her grip tightened around her sword, but eventually sheathed it on her back, along with her dagger.

"I accept your surrender," Allana said sternly, though her voice was barely a whisper. She stared blankly ahead, determined not to look at the warden beside her, knowing that if she did, her plan would crumble.

"I didn't just hear you say that!" Alistair cried out. Allana fought hard against the tears welling in her eyes. She knew this would hurt him now, but eventually, eventually he would understand.

"You're going to let him live?" Alistair pressed further. "After everything he's done? Kill him already!"

"Wait!" Riordan called as he moved closer to the group, "There is another option."

"He will become a Warden," Allana finished.

"The joining is often fatal, is it not?" Asked Anora. She turned to Alistair, who had his face wrenched into a look of anger and disbelief. Allana fought to keep her eyes from him, but it was too late. Their eyes met and he ripped his from hers. "If he survives, you gain a General," Anora continued, "If not, you have your revenge. Doesn't that satisfy you?"

"Absolutely not!" Alistair turned to Allana. Their eyes me again and his stare scorched into hers. "This man abandoned our brothers and blamed us for the deed!" He stepped closer to Allana and grabbed her shoulder, bending slightly to meet the elven warden's gaze. She looked at him for a moment before tearing her eyes away. She lifted her hand atop his, pulling it gently from her shoulder and lingering slightly to squeeze his hand while wondering if he could even feel the slight reassurance she was trying to give him through the heavy armor. "He hunted us down like animals!" Alistair continued, pulling his hand roughly from Allana's grasp. Turning to Riordan he said, "He tortured you! How can we simply forget that?"

"Ali-" Allana started.

"Name him a Warden and you cheapen us all," His fiery eyes bore into hers again. "I will not stand next to him as a brother! I won't!"

Her heart ached. She felt her plan crumbling. But it was the best route. For all of them. "So that's it?" She asked meekly, "You or him?"

"He's being childish," Anora accused. "How many Generals do you thing Ferelden has? We can't afford to lose any of them to Alistair's tantrums if we want to survive the Blight."

Alistair looked to Allana for a moment, who for once did not keep her chin held high in confidence of her decision. She looked to him in a moment of desperation, but seeing the anger in his eyes caused her to look back to the ground in shame. "Oh, but we can afford to lose a king?" he said, turning to Anora again. "And the entire army that was abandoned at Ostagar? Whose tantrums cost us all that, I wonder?" He stepped closer to Allana and raised one gloved hand to the tiny elven woman's face, cupping her face in his hand. She continued to look down, insistent on not meeting his gaze. "I didn't want to be king," He started. "I still don't." He pulled away from her harshly. "But, if that's what it takes to see Loghain get justice, then I'll do it."

"No," Allana whispered, grabbing Alistair's hand. He pulled away roughly.

"I'll take the crown!" He bellowed with more confidence.

"Listen to this!" Anora begged, "Can't you see how disastrous a king he'd be? Putting his own selfish desires above the needs of his country. You can't seriously support him." Anora looked to Allana.

Allana looked up tenderly to the man beside her. His gaze was expectant, but no longer angry. She knew she would be breaking his heart, but it had to be done. For both of them. He would understand one day.

"You're right," Allana said with confidence. Her shoulders lifted and her chin tilted up. "Anora, you take the crown."

"You're siding with her?" Alistair accused. "How could you do this to me?"

"It's _for_ you," Allana began.

"_You_, of all people?"

"I thought you hated the idea of being king-" Allana began again.

"This isn't just about the kingship," Alistair interrupted. "I guess I always knew I didn't deserve to be so happy." His voice lowered. Allana reached for him, but he pulled away.

"Ali-"

"I just didn't expect you to agree. Especially in front of all of Ferelden," he finished.

"Why does this have to be the end?" Allana asked, voice barely above a whisper, again reaching for him.

"I can't do it," he said, pulling away from her again. "I can't. Ask me for a pound of my flesh. Or all the gold in Orlais. But don't ask me to accept that _monster_ as a brother."

"Ali-" Allana called, frantically reaching for his hand as he pulled away.

"I guess I have no choice," he said, turning from her. "I'm leaving."

Allana's heart shattered. _This wasn't how it was supposed to happen,_ she thought.

"I'm afraid its not so simple as that Alistair," Anora taunted.

_No. No. No. No,_ Allana begged in her mind.

"You already got what you wanted!" Alistair shouted, turning to the queen. "Your murdering father gets a place among the Grey Wardens. What else could you want from me?"

"Your life, unfortunately," Anora stated simply.

"No!" Allana gasped.

"So long as you live, rebellions can be raised in your name," the queen continued, "Our land cannot endure another civil war. I must call for your execution."

"No! You owe me, Anora. Let Alistair live!" Allana protested.

"This is what you would ask? Very well, though I think it a mistake," she said as she turned to the almost-templar, "Alistair, you may leave on the condition that you swear before this Landsmeet that you renounce all claim to the throne for yourself and all your heirs."

"Unless you fall before producing an heir," Allana insisted.

"No," the queen spoke.

"The nation would need a leader. You cannot deny them a Theirin on the throne if you are to fall!" Allana protested.

Anora laughed and thought for a moment. "Very well, if I am to fall before producing an heir, the throne is yours." She laughed again. "But that is incredibly unlikely. More unlikely that the people shall not accept their exiled king."

"That's what it'll take, huh? Fine, I don't want anything to do with this place!" He turned to Allana and caught her eye, "Or any of _you_ people. Ever! I swear it. I guess this is goodbye." Alistair took a step toward Allana. "I had no idea it would end this way for us."

"Don't go!" she protested, grabbing for his hand again. He pulled his back quickly and used the same hand to slap her roughly across the face.

"This wasn't my idea," he said softly, pulling away from he slowly as he noted the gasps from the crowd. He looked at her. "I had these dreams. They don't matter now. Take care of yourself," he spat.

She looked at him in shock, tears were rolling down his face as he stormed out of the hall. She moved to follow him, but Riordan held her back, shaking his head. Allana pulled from his grip, running after the templar warden.

"Alistair!" she called, catching up to him. "Alistair, please!" She put a hand on his shoulder. He stilled. "I love you," she whispered.

In a flash, he tossed her roughly against the wall, her head bouncing off the cold stone. He held her there for a moment as she whimpered. "Don't tell me of love," he spat. "I _thought_ I was in love once. What a damn _fool_ I was. Then again, I was a fool to fall for a dirty, tainted knife-ear in the first place."

Her tears overflowed at his insults. She expected him to be angry, but she never expected him to treat her like this. The man she loved had disappeared the moment she decided to spare the psychotic general.

AN: Please review!


	2. Chapter 2: Survive

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Dragon Age. Just borrowing!

A/N: Thanks for the follows and reviews! This chapter is not terribly interesting, but it is necessary. I'm hoping to update 1-2 times a week.

Chapter 2: Survive

Darkspawn. They surrounded the group in impossible numbers. Allana's sword and dagger sliced viciously through the endless monsters. Above them, the archdemon soared. Allana cried out, a loud war cry as her companions doubled their efforts to destroy the horde in front if them.

"Allana!" A voice cried from her right. She turned to see Alistair running towards the group. He was clothed in plainclothes, not armor. Her heart stopped in fear. He had no visible weapons and his linen tunic and breeches would do nothing to shield him from any attack. At the same time, she was so incredibly happy to see the senior warden's face.

"Alistair!" She cried out in disbelief. Just as quickly as he'd appeared, he was being run through and devoured by darkspawn. A sword had been run through his unarmored chest before the hurlock pulled it back with his heart. He viciously attacked it with his teeth, Alistair lying limp on the brick path.

"No!" Allana screamed, running toward the fallen warden. "No! You can't take him! No!"

Allana felt a pulling on her shoulder. "No!" She screamed again as more of the tainted creatures moved to devour the flesh of the fallen man. She could feel the tears falling down her face as the pressure on her shoulder increased. "No!" She screamed again. The horde moved in closer and the Archdemon let out a deafening roar.

She woke with a gasp, the man next to her falling to the ground a she sat up.

"Allana," he spoke, the Antivan accent drawing out her name, "it was a dream."

"Zev," she whispered. "I made a horrible mistake."

"You did what you thought was right," he said tenderly back to the elven warden, brushing stray sweat soaked crimson stands from her face. She quickly swatted his hand away.

"I'll never see him again," she said.

"There will be a day when he will forgive you," he assured her.

"You didn't see him, Zev. He was beyond angry. He looked at me as if I was dirt. He slammed me against a wall and insulted me. I never thought. . ."

"I know," Zevran paused, "I am sorry that I don't have anything else to say. Can I ask what the nightmare was about?"

She knew he was pressing for any information on where the horde may be heading. She shook her head. "It was just about him."

"I see. Please try to get some rest," he said softly, squeezing her hand again. "Just a few hours until Loghain's joining."

"I know," she said, fiddling worth the edge of the bedsheets. They were residing in Denirim for the time, until Loghain's joining was complete. Arl Eamon no longer welcomed the group at his estate. The inn had just enough rooms for the group, the city being crowded with refugees of the Blighted lands.

Allana had insisted on a room to herself, but after the first night when her nightmares had her sleepwalking and attacking the inns staff in her sleep, the group had taken turns to keep her in good company. She knew she should be grateful, but all she could do was think she didn't deserve their concern.

The assassin moved off the edge of her bed and walked across the room to retrieve a glass of water. He handed it to her, but she made no move to take it from him.

"I don't need you to take care of me," she hissed. He set the gloss on her side table and excused himself.

Allana threw off the sweat-soaked sheets and began pacing the room, bare feet nimbly moving across the wooden floors. _I shouldn't think of him, _she thought, _I have a duty. The safety of Ferelden is at stake. And I am pining over a lost lover._ She stopped pacing to lean her head against a wall. _Did he really love me? Or was I just convenient?_

Allana thought back to the blushing man as he handed her the rose at camp. Her heart had soared. Never did she think that someone would do something so romantic for her, let alone a human.

_My duty comes first,_ she thought again as she curled into bed. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. Sleep would not find her.

...

Zevran found his way downstairs, to his surprise finding Loghain sitting alone at one of the inn's tables. The fallen general was staring through the open shutters, watching the dawn light spread over the city.

"So is it _Lord _Loghain?" the elven assassin inquired as he approached the Grey Warden recruit.

Loghain looked up at Zevran with a look of slight despair, "I am no longer a Teyrn, nor even a knight. Address me without title, as you would any other Grey Warden."

"So just Loghain, then?"

"Correct," the fallen Teyrn paused, "What's on your mind?"

"You know who I am, yes?" Zevran took a few steps closer to the table and took a seat across from Loghain. "I was one of the Crows you hired to kill the Grey Wardens."

Loghain took a moment to stare at the assassin. "I thought you looked familiar," he said carefully.

"Well I just wanted to report that I have failed my mission, Loghain," Zevran said with a smile.

"You don't say!" Loghain replied with a laugh.

Zevran wiped under his eyes, imitating tears, "I'm terribly broken up over it."

"Hmm, well thank you kindly for informing me," he said with a chuckle.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Zevran spoke again, "It is nothing against you, but I do not know why Allana had you join the ranks."

"I am in the dark, just as you are," Loghain responded, choosing to look through the open window again, "But I am grateful to still have my life."

"She has spared me as well," Zevran said thoughtfully. "As you know, I was hired to kill her. Though, Allana and her party proved to be too much for us. She defeated the group we hired with ease and had me on the ground beneath her feet, sword to my throat. For some reason, she decided to spare me. I owe my life to her."

"She makes a habit of collecting those who try to kill her, does she? A dangerous habit," Loghain scoffed.

"You are very lucky to me among us," Zevran said, anger peeking out from under his words. "Allana gave up something very important in order for you to live."

"The boy-prince?" Loghain said with disrespect. "He may be important to her, but by his actions at the Landsmeet, the group is better off without him."

"I agree that he reacted badly, but we all hold him very dear," Zevran spoke. "I am upset that he turned to violence toward our dear Warden, but I can understand his pain. I do not want to speak too much of their relationship as it may cause disruption in the group, but you should know that she loves him, and he had loved her."

"If she had loved him, why did she not choose him over me? She even deprived him of the chance at the throne," the general tossed out.

"Allana has not told me of her reasons," Zevran said sadly, "But I hope her choice was right. Currently the Grey Wardens in Ferelden consist of just the two of you and Riordan within Ferelden. If her choice was the wrong one, it may cost the entire nation."

...

"Damn bitch," Alistair muttered as he walked the road. He had not taken his things from his room in Denirim. He had not wanted to be near them, near _her_. Equipped only with the armor on his back, shield, and sword, he made his way North on foot.

The hunger was pulling him from his thoughts, but he knew it was at least another day's walk to the next town. He had no tent for the night, no bedroll to sleep upon. He thought back to his first few nights traveling with his fellow warden. She had insisted on bedrolls for all of them as soon as they reached Lothering. Luckily, the same night, Bodhain had joined their camp and they were able to purchase tents for each of the party members and store them in his wagon as they traveled. They were always able to purchase food from the Dwarf or Allana would hunt rabbits while Morrigan collected various edible vegetation. He had to admit, he was well taken care of during their travels.

Now, alone, he wondered if it was smart to leave the Wardens. He would be wanted for deserting. He was now two days outside of Denirim, being fueled until this moment by anger from the outcome of the Landsmeet. He felt a pang of guilt followed by pains of hunger. Alistair's lips were dry with thirst.

_I am going to die, _he thought. _No food, no water. I have no shelter and I am a Darkspawn magnet. I do not have the talent to hunt, no idea where any water sources are. I don't know how to survive._

Alistair continued on the path, praying silently that the path would soon bring him to shelter. Within an hour, he had collapsed on the road to Waking Sea.

AN: Please review! Also, if you find any grammar/spelling errors, please let me know so I may fix them. I don't always catch everything.


	3. Chapter 3: Crossed

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age. Just borrowing characters and places.

AN: Weeeeeee. This chapter was a bitch to write, just saying.

Chapter 3: Crossed

Allana stared at the pile of things left by him. She couldn't bear to toss them, but they could not bring it all with them. She started sorting through his things. A bag full of food, mostly cheese, was placed in with the party's inventory. There were two pairs of well-worn wool socks, dotted with small holes, that she decided to ditch. His plainclothes were threadbare, and after taking a moment to inhale the scent of cedar and soap, _his_ smell, she decided to toss them as well.

She had taken the Joining chalice to Riordan after the Landsmeet to prepare for Loghain's joining. Today, they would venture outside of Denirim to hunt for Darkspawn and gather the blood. As Junior Warden, Allana was to accompany him. Her own Joining felt like a lifetime ago.

The elven warden held the statues in a bundle in her arms. It was heartbreaking to let them go. She knew of no use for them, but she couldn't forget the excitement he had shown when she gifted them to him. She slipped them into her bag, taking up the little space she had left. The bag barely buckled, but she needed something of his. If she was able, she wouldn't let any of it go - even the holy socks. She was desperate to hold on to him, couldn't bear to let him leave her mind.

She found a curious small pouch within his bag containing a wooden box. She had never seen him with this, he must have gotten it recently. When she opened the box, she couldn't hold back the tears. In the center, buried in soft black velvet padding, was a thin silver band with an emerald stone. She held it in her hands for several minutes before tucking it into her bag. She couldn't wear it, though she knew it was meant for her.

One day, she wanted to look for him. If she survived, her focus would be him. Perhaps then he will have forgiven her.

But duty came first.

...

"He's coming to," a voice muttered as Alistair struggled to sit up. The rhythmic shaking of the wagon made him feel ill and he clutched his stomach. Opening his eyes, he noticed the faces surrounding him. The men were armored, but their armor had seen better days.

"Are you alright?" A young man asked, helping him to sit up. Alistair's armor had been removed and he could feel the man's hand on his back helping to steady him. Alistair groaned, but allowed the elf to help him. Once sure that Alistair was in a sitting position, the man handed him a waterskin. The warden eyed him before taking a long swig to ease his thirst. The man patted him on the shoulder and pulled a roll from his bag to hand to Alistair. He ate it with no hesitation, but could not find his voice to offer the travelers thanks.

"Were you robbed? It is unfortunate that you are ill prepared for traveling, though it is apparent by your armor and sword that you have seen much," the man said to him. The others in the group were silent, staring at Alistair expectantly.

"Something like that. . . " Alistair muttered. _Robbed of a crown. Robbed of my dignity. Robbed of my heart, _he thought.

"Where were you headed? We found you days from any town or village," the man asked. "We are headed south to Denirim, currently. Then west to Redcliffe."

Alistair groaned at the thought of heading back. He remained silent, taking another pull from the waterskin. The men eyed him curiously. After a moment, the man spoke again, "We are assisting the towns with the fight against Darkspawn. Or bandits. Whatever offers a bit of coin, really. You are welcome to travel with us. I recommend at least staying until we reach Denirim to restock before continuing your journey."

"How far 'till Denirim?" Alistair asked, holding his throbbing head and taking another drink from the waterskin.

"A few hours. Should be there by sundown," the man replied. After a moment, he continued, "The name is Alan. The two others are Brock and Henry. Leading the wagon is Rich," he said with a nod to the other men.

"I'm uh. . . Duncan," the warden replied, unsure if the group had known about the happenings at the Landsmeet.

"Well, _Duncan,_ welcome to the group," Alan said with a chuckle.

...

"I passed your test. Fate has a twisted sense of humor it seems," Loghain said with a smirk. Allana stood with the man just outside the walls of Denirim, leaning casually against the bricks. "I suppose you think I'm some sort of monster. More so since I survived your ritual; you keep striking at me, and I just refuse to die decently."

"I don't think you're a monster," Allana said quietly. _I'm the monster, _she thought.

"You're a poor liar, you know. It's kind of you to say so, all the same. We must settle things between us somehow or another or neither of us will get any work done. So what will it be?" Loghain asked.

Allana looked at him for a moment. "We're going to have to work together."

"Is that punishment meant for me or for you?" he replied with a chuckle. "Just like that, we're allies? I can't imagine it's so simple. I don't know what concession you want from me, Warden. I expect my word will not satisfy you."

"As Riordan said, if you desert us, the Darkspawn will find you. Our taint is like a beacon. You're a Grey Warden now. Nothing can change that," she said, thinking only of Alistair.

"I think it's time we got to the point here. What do you want from me?" the former general questioned. "I can't imagine you spared my life in the Landsmeet by accident. You have some plan in mind?"

Allana remained silent for a few moments before speaking quietly, "I intended for you to have a purpose. . .with Alistair gone. . . It doesn't matter now."

"A purpose? And aiding you in the fight against Darkspawn is no purpose?"

Allana watched as a small wagon entered the city gates, not wanting to look at the newest Warden. She gave a sigh. "Did you ever wonder why it needs to be a Grey Warden that defeats the Archdemon?" she asked.

"I never gave it much thought, I suppose."

"It is all I think about," Allana admitted. "With so few of us in Ferelden, and it must be one of us that does the deed."

"How few is there?"

"After the defeat at Ostagar, all that remained was Alistair and myself. Now, with you and Riordan, it makes a total of four," she said with a sigh. "And now with Alistair gone, it is just the three of us. And Riordan. . . I believe his Calling is nearly upon him."

"Calling?"

Allana paused for a moment. "After surviving your joining, Wardens have only about thirty or so years before the taint begins to consume them. It is customary that when Wardens feel that time is upon them, they venture to the Deep Roads to kill as many Darkspawn as they can before the taint. . . kills you. That is the Calling."

"Oh, being a Grey Warden just gets better and better. I suppose I should be grateful; I am still alive, after all."

"The _best_ part is the nightmares. Dreaming of the Archdemon every night is absolutely _wonderful_. I haven't had a full night's sleep in nearly three months. And the constant hunger is quite magnificent as well. Got to love those perks!" Allana said with a laugh. It was an automatic response to reply with humor. _His humor, _she thought.

"Oh my. This will be quite the fitting punishment."

...

Night had fallen when the group's wagon entered the gates of Denirim. All was still and quiet but for two figures standing a distance from the gates. The gates opened and Alistair placed a helm upon his head.

The group was able to find accommodations at The Pearl, amongst comforts of other things. Alan told him that they would scout for work in the morning, insisted that they enjoy themselves for now. Alistair found no comfort here, and decided to go for a walk.

He made his way through they alleyways, not wanting to be recognized. Curiously, a small group of seedy-looking men gathered around a trash-heap, pulling through clothing and-

_His _woolen socks. _His_ worn bedroll and tent. He shoved the group of men out of the way and drew his sword; the men scattered. He sheathed his blade before looking through what was left of his things. He was able to find a usable waterskin, but many of the items had already been picked over. He was sparked with anger when he realized his valuables - gifts given to him, trinkets he had saved. He roared before marching back to the Pearl, seething with anger.

The ring was gone. It was meant for her and she just tossed it out, along with everything else he had owned, to be sorted through and pawned by the scum of Denirim.

Allana had hurt him, but Alistair wanted her to feel pain as well.

AN: UGH THIS CHAPTER. I KNOW WHERE I'M GOING BUT THE ROADS DO NOT COMPUTE. Anyways, reviews would be lovely.


	4. Chapter 4: Torn

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age. I'm just borrowing names and places.

AN: Thanks for the reviews and follow guys! As always, if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, please let me know so I may fix them. Reviews are always lovely!  
As a warning, this chapter is very dark. Alistair does some terrible things to our heroine - the main reason for the change in rating. It's bad, it's really, really bad.

Chapter Four: Torn Open

"Arl Eamon has left for Redcliffe and tells me that our armies have almost fully gathered there. I will be heading there myself," the Queen informed the group. Allana and her traveling companions stood in a small hall off the main throne room at Anora's request.

"The Arl will still lend us aid?" Allana questioned, "Even after we. .. even after I thwarted his effort to put Alistair on the throne?"

"Arl Eamon knows his duty to Ferelden. He will do anything in the best interest of the nation," Anora stated simply.

"I see," Allana said softly.

"Bring your companions and join us at Redcliffe Castle as soon as you are able," the Queen instructed. "You have united Ferelden, Warden. . . now we face the Blight." With that, she turned to exit.

"Your majesty, may I have a word?" Leliana asked, catching the woman before she left.

"Certainly, but please be brief. There is much to be done," Anora stood expectantly.

"Actually, I was hoping we could speak in private," the bard admitted.

"If you have anything to say, Leliana, it may be said," Allana pushed.

"No, nevermind. I am sorry to keep you, Your Majesty," Leliana said with a slight bow.

"You have peaked my interest. Please speak," Anora insisted.

"I am out of line, I apologize," Leliana said, bowing again.

"Just out with it!" Allana pushed.

"It's just, I know our fearless leader would never ask," Leliana said, eying Allana out of the corner of her eye. Allana crossed her arms and glared at the bard. Leliana continued, "Our funds are quite low. We have been traveling for quite some time and occasional perform odd jobs for a bit of coin, but many of us are in desperate need of new armor and our weapons in need of repair."

"Very well. I will send word to the armory and blacksmith of your needs. Is there anything else?" the Queen asked.

"No, you are quite generous. Thank you, Your Majesty," Leliana said with a bow. Anora exited and Allana glared at the bard.

"I know it was not what you wanted to ask. We have plenty of coin, Leliana," the elven warden growled as she exited the chamber.

"You have insulted our fearless leader," Zevran piped in.

"Oh, she is not fearless," Wynne said softly. "Her fears have been consuming her."

...

"Do you know of anyone in need of helping hands?" Alan inquired. The group of men stood in the lobby of the Gnawed Noble tavern as Alan questioned the bartender for possible jobs. Alistair looked around the large room through the slit in his helm, keeping his eyes peeled for anyone who may recognize him.

"There are some odd jobs for some anonymous persons," the bartender said in a hushed voice. He handed over some pieces of worn parchment and Alan looked them over for a minute. He continued discussion with the bartender as the others stepped outside for fresh air.

Panic and anger caused Alistair to hold his breath as he watched Allana walk by him in a hurry. Her steps were quick and nimble, but obviously fueled by anger. Part of him wanted to follow, ask her what was wrong, but his rage kept him stationary and shaking with anger. After a few moments had passed, he took a deep breath. Throughout the day, he had heard rumors of the troops gathering in Redcliffe and the Wardens would soon be joining them. She would be leaving soon and he didn't have to worry about her recognizing him after that.

His body seemed to betray his logic as he began following her. Careful to stay several yards behind her, he trailed her into the Alienage and down a few back alleys. Oddly, her traveling companions were nowhere to be found. He shrug the thought and followed her through a short gate, careful to tread softly. He watched as she kneeled beside two large stones tucked in the earth. She grazed one with her fingertips and kneeled silently on the ground, closing her eyes.

Alistair moved a bit closer, but his armor clinked slightly and her head shot up toward him. "Out!" She said forcefully, moving to draw her sword. Surprisingly, she never got the chance. Alistair moved quickly and dragged her by her throat to the stone wall bordering the clearing. She coughed and chortled, not able to make a sound. Her hands gripped over his, clawing, trying to get him to release his grasp.

Alistair's rage blinded him from his actions. It wasn't until she stopped struggling, her arms laying limply at her sides as she stared down with tears brimming her eyes. Shocked at himself, he quickly let go, her tiny frame falling to the ground.

"Get it over with," she choked out. "Whatever you're planning." She rubbed her neck and coughed several times. He stared down at her. "Just finish it! Whatever you came here for, just do it!"

Alistair's fists clenched and unclenched before he turned to leave. After a few steps, he heard movement behind him. "Coward," she spat out. He turned and saw her braced against the wall, clutching her throat. Her shoulder length silky red hair was slightly tossled, pointed ears sticking out through the messy locks. Alistair couldn't help but think she was beautiful, even as battered as she was. Even as evil as she is, he thought.

After a few moments, she kneeled beside the two stones once more, keeping her eyes on him. He tossed the helm to the ground and eyed her. She gasped in shock and stared for a moment before sobbing uncontrollably. He picked up the helm quickly and turned to leave.

"Please stay," she whimpered. "Alistair, please." He stood still and silent. "Let me explain, please," she choked out between sobs, standing and moving closer to him. He turned to face her, lips pursed and eyebrows stitched together in a defiant glare.

"Who do you think you are?" he spat out. He stormed close to her and pulled her up by the collar of her lightweight leather armor she had purchased from the Dalish. He pushed against her bare throat, pinning her again to the stone wall. "You manipulated me. I was a toy," he hissed, but her eyes did not meet his. He pulled her forward and roughly against the wall again, her head hitting the rough stone. Tears were streaming down her face. "Did you ever feel anything? Or did you only just keep me around until someone who could benefit you came along?"

"I love you," she whispered.

He laughed. "If you loved me, you wouldn't have tossed me aside for the man who murdered our brothers. If you loved me, you would have supported my decision to be king," he hissed, one hand on her throat and the other working its way down her bare stomach. She shuddered at the feeling of the metal on her skin.

"Ali-"

"You were my first. You took that from me. You knew how important it was for me," he said, hand gliding down her stomach and over the leather pleats.

"It was important for me too!" She insisted, her eyes snapping up to meet his. Wet trails marked her cheeks. Before he knew what he was doing, he moved his face closer and kissed her roughly as his hand snaked under her skirt to cup her mound with an armored hand. She whimpered against his mouth, but returned his kiss greedily.

He let out an eerie laugh. "And now, it's my turn to play with you," he whispered into her ear. He moved aside the leather band and roughly shoved an armored finger inside her as his grip tightened on her neck. She gasped at the pain and clawed at the fingers around her neck.

"Ali, please it hurts," she cried.

"You deserve it," he hissed.

"Where did my Ali-bear go? Why won't you liste-" her words were cut off by a scream of pain. Another finger had joined the one working inside her.

"Listen to the rehearsed lies you're trying to feed me? I think not," he hissed.

"A Warden has to die to defeat the archdemon!" She cried out.

He withdrew from her as she slumped to the ground. "What?" was all he could manage to say.

"It has to be a Warden, Ali. 'In death, sacrifice,'" she said quietly, hand darting between her legs and withdrawing it again, coated a dark red. "I wasn't sure of it, but Riordan confirmed last night after Loghain's Joining."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he shouted at her.

"I wasn't sure! You keep looking to me to guide you and I didn't want to mislead you. But I was so scared of losing you, it blinded me! I was selfish, Alistair. Every decision I made was meant to keep you together with me," she pleaded.

"I can't even look at you right now," he growled before placing the helm upon his head and leaving.

...

"Find him!" Allana ordered as she returned to the inn.

"Find who?" Zevran asked, turning with surprise as Allana burst through the door.

"Alistair. He's still in Denerim. He's here, he hasn't left," she choked out.

"My dear, what happened?" Wynne asked softly, stepping closer to the elven warden.

"He's still here," she said with a weak smile. "He was in the Alienage." The group stared at her.

"Forgive me for being blunt, but what in the Maker's name happened to your neck?" Loghain questioned as he moved closer to Allana.

"We fought. Briefly. Please, someone help me find him! I lost his trail on the way back," Allana said quickly as a hand went to her neck - the same hand smeared with blood, her blood.

"And blood! Are you alright?" Leliana pressed.

"I'm fine! But he's not! Please, we need to find him!"

"I'm afraid there isn't time," Riordan spoke softly, "We have orders to leave for Redcliffe immediately. Everyone has already packed."

AN: Looks like trouble! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Reviews? Pwease?


	5. Chapter 5: Breaking

Disclaimer: The usual. I don't own Dragon Age and make no profit.

Chapter 5: Breaking

_I can't believe I just did that, _Alistair thought as he paced the small room at the Pearl. He looked at his hands in horror, noting the blood marking one and still imagining gripping her neck with the other. _I am just like the monster she killed that day, _he thought, _The death of one monster brought her to the hands of another._

There was a knock on the door before Alan burst through with a wide smile. "You'll never believe our luck!" he started. "We've been hired as a subgroup of the city guard! It's fulltime pay!"

Alistair stared at the cheery man with a frown. "Is the city that shorthanded of guards?"

"Well, many have chosen to travel with the Queen and the Wardens to Redcliffe to battle the Blight. The city guard has lost many to the army," Alan said excitedly, "Which means we get to stay put for a while and make some coin. I know it doesn't mean much to you, Duncan, but we usually never stay in a city for more than three nights. It will be a welcome change."

"I understand, Alan. I am happy to be considered part of your team," Alistair said as he moved to sit in the armchair near the fireplace.

"Is something bothering you, Duncan?"

Alistair sighed. "I just really miss someone," he said finally.

"Ah," Alan said, voice dropping with the mood. "Lost someone to the Darkspawn?"

"You can't lose someone if you never had them," Alistair said viciously.

"Then how can you miss them?" Alan asked with a grin.

Alistair paused and thought for a few moments. "She was my light in the darkness," he began. "The beauty amidst all the death and decay. Without her, I would have been lost."

"What happened to her?" Alan said as he sat across from the lost warden.

"It's complicated," Alistair said after a few moments.

"She didn't feel the same?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Alistair admitted. "My anger has been getting the best of me lately." He looked at his hands again and thought of her tear filled eyes as he gripped her throat. He swallowed, but felt a lump in his throat.

"I see," Alan said and paused. "We leave shortly to escort the Queen and the Wardens out of the city. Remember, we all have a regrettable past, Duncan. The best thing is to look to a better future. You may want to consider enlisting with the Wardens. They offer second ch-"

"The Wardens are no way out," Alistair said angrily before leaving.

...

"Allana, please let me care for your neck," Wynne insisted as she trailed behind the nimble warden.

"My neck is fine," Allana repeated. "I need to have new armor fitted before we leave. There is not time for much else."

"Allow me to accompany you," Wynne pushed, struggling to keep up with the elven woman.

Allana huffed. "I don't need a babysitter," she spat angrily.

"But you do need a friend," Wynne said softly.

Allana turned swiftly and stared at the elderly mage. "I need to complete my duty to Ferelden," she hissed. "My personal feelings no longer matter."

"We all know you miss him," Wynne said softly.

"Don't you start! You never approved of our relationship to begin with," Allana spat.

"The two of you completed eachother," the mage said as she placed a hand on the warden's shoulder. "You were happy. And in terrible times like this, that happiness is the most valuable thing in the world."

"Well, that happiness is gone," Allana said angrily, "We have a Blight to defeat." With that, she turned to enter the armory.

Wynne stood outside the armory for some time, watching the bustle of the city. She sighed as she thought of the two young wardens. Fate had been cruel to them. Alistair, an orphan, raised by the brother of the woman his father betrayed, shuffled off to the chantry at the jealousy of the Arl's young wife, recruited into an order that promised nothing but death. Allana, raised in a city that treated her race as filth, working for pennies, betrothed to a man she never met only to be kidnapped and abused on her wedding day, forced to kill said kidnappers to ensure the safety of her friends and family, losing her fiancee in the process, and either be conscripted into the Wardens to face an early death, or to face death from her actions.

Admittedly, at first Wynne was hesitant to allow the two to become so close. Even now, after the two had seperated, she knew that the love they shared found them the greatest happiness either of them had ever known. The elderly mage's heart ached for them. Allana, normally very level headed and duty-oriented, was frantic and spontanious. The past few days had shown the group an entirely different side of the young elf. She was restless and angry, snapping at most who approached her. Wynne had not seen her smile once since the Landsmeet and often found her sobbing in her room at the inn. When Wynne had tried to comfort the young woman, she screamed, "I don't need a babysitter!" and slammed the door in her face. This young woman was going to either lead the nation to victory or death. With her sudden loss of spirit, Wynne feared the worst.

Wynne continued to watch as the people passed. She took a deep breath and enjoyed the cool breeze - a cool breeze she could not have felt while in the tower.

The mage's thoughts were interrupted as she noticed an obviously irritated armored man heading toward the armory. She narrowed her eyes in recognition and fought back a smile. Fate was cruel, but could also be very kind.

"Excuse me, sir?" She called out warmly as he passed. The armored man froze and cautiously turned to her. Wynne laughed. "Even with the helm, I can tell it is you, Alistair." A few moments of tense silence passed before the mage spoke again, "May I have a word?"

Alistair sighed and took a step closer to the elderly woman. "So much for disguises, huh?" He said awkwardly.

"Allana is inside. If you wish to not be seen by her, I reccomend a different armory," Wynne said quietly. Alistair turned to leave, but Wynne grabbed his arm. "Alistair, she misses you a great deal."

"I don't care," he hissed.

"But I think you do, even if you won't admit it. Why else would you stay in Denirim? Why else would you seek her out?"

"Seek her out?" he huffed. "I only wanted answers! She betra-"

"She was trying to save you, Alistair," Wynne said calmly.

"Save me? She recruited a man that killed most of our Order, who tried to kill _us._ What would have happened if he tried again?" Alistair responded heatedly, his voice bouncing of the metal of his helm.

"I won't keep you much longer, Alistair, but know she is lost without you. Even if you do not approve of her decision, what she has done, she has done and there is no way to change the past. No matter how angry you get, no matter how much you _physically hurt her_, there is nothing you can do to undo her decision," Wynne said as she eyed the young warden. He fell silent.

"I don't know what came over me, Wynne," he admitted quietly. "I never thought I would be the kind of man that would do that. Especially not to her."

"What's done is done," Wynne repeated. "And I am not the one who you should be saying this to."

"I will not speak with her, if that is what you're implying," Alistair said bitterly.

"I'm not asking you to, Alistair. But I thought you should know that she is hurting from what she has done," Wynne said as the man turned to leave. "But also think of your duty, Warden. Just because you leave, it does not make you any less of a Grey Warden. The taint does not leave simply because you will it to."

Alistair nodded before quickly walking away from the old woman. He breathed deeply before heading back to the Pearl. New armor would have to wait for another day.

...

Allana left the armory, covered from shoulder to toe in dragonscale armor. She was content with the fit, though it was a little restricting for the elven rouge's tastes. She noted Wynne eying a tall soldier walking briskly down the brick road as she exited the armory. She narrowed her eyes. Him. She recognized the armor from earlier in the day.

Allana practically growled as she chased after him. Wynne began to protest, but only shook her head and slowly walked back to the inn. Allana caught up and slammed into him with all the force she could muster, pushing him toward a back alley. She quickly drew her dagger and raised it so the tip nestled between the gap of his chestplate and helm.

Alistair raised his hands in surrender. He took in the pure rage in the tiny woman's eyes. He said nothing as she raised her free hand to remove his helm.

"You are still a Grey Warden," she managed to choke out. "And if you no longer wish to travel with me, that is fine. But I will not allow you to abandon Ferelden."

"Then what do you propose I do?" Alistair spat back. He grabbed the wrist of the arm holding the dagger. She dropped it at the shock of his hand wrapping around her small wrist. He noticed the bruises on he neck, the bruises caused by him, and let go quickly.

The pair stood staring at eachother for several tense moments before Allana stepped closer to him. She rushed him, placing her hands on the sides of his face and pushing all of her weight against him so he stood against the stone wall. She placed her lips hungrily on his. He quickly pushed her off.

"You wanted me earlier!" She hissed. "Take it. Take everything. Use me, beat me, I don't care! So long as you're here. So long as I have you here." Tears were streaming down her face as she moved closer to him again.

He threw her against the wall and pinned her with his hips, gripping her little wrists with his large hands. He admired how fragile they looked in his hands. He leaned his head against her shoulder and and breathed in, inhaling her scent mixed with dragon leather. As he breathed out, she shivered.

"I miss you," she whispered, relishing the feeling of his hot breath on her neck, comforted by feeling his stubble scrape against her soft skin. Alistair shifted and released her wrists, wrapping his arms around her narrow waist as he kept his face buried in the crook of her neck. His body shook as he silently sobbed against her.

AN: Reviews? :3


	6. Chapter 6: Valuable

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

A/N: So sorry for the long delay in updates. I had a crazy job during October working at a Haunted House and going to school. Now I'm taking care of my mom, who just had her second knee replacement and going to school. I'll keep my updates to about once a week, hopefully. Reviews are much appreciated.

Chapter 6 - Valuable

Allana hugged Alistair to her as his tears soaked her neck. She nuzzled him softly as his sobs shook his body. "Ally," she said softly. He stiffened. "Please come back."

His embrace was comforting and Allana couldn't help but welcome the feeling of his stubble on her neck as he nuzzled into her. She missed this. She missed him. She felt torn, finding happiness in this feeling as he sobbed against her, especially after what he had done to her.

"I'm so sorry," he chanted, "I'm so sorry." He held her tighter and bent low to her, completely embracing her and looking as if he was trying to hide in the elven woman's hold.

"Alistair," Allana said softly. He stiffened. "I love you, you know that."

"Why did you throw me away?" He asked, voice muffled in her neck.

"I didn't," she said pulling him tighter to her. "You left."

"You made me leave. I had no choice," he hissed pulling away from her. She held tight to him.

"Don't start this again," she said softly.

"You let _him_ in and shut me out!" He shouted.

"Alistair!" She said angrily pulling him back toward her as he turned to leave. "It's always you. Every decision I make is for you."

"He abandoned our brothers!"

"And you think you didn't do the same?" She spat. "_You_ abandoned _me_, Alistair. _You_ left me to fight the Blight on my own."

"I will do my duty," he said after several moments of silence.

"As will he." Several moments passed and she took his larger hand in hers. "I wish you would come with."

"Not as long as he's there," he said quietly.

"You need to speak with Riordan. He's the senior warden. You need permission to stay behind. I don't want you imprisoned for desertion," she said, thinking back to the caged man at Ostagar.

"I don't think I'd know what to say." Alistair felt like a child being scolded.

"I will help you," she began, "I will always help you."

Alistair held her hand firmly. "I'll. . . speak with Riordan," he said in defeat. He was quickly assaulted with a passionate kiss, Allana's fingers tangling into the short hairs at the back of his head. His face flushed and he wrapped his free hand around her waist once more, fingers on his other hand tightly intertwined with her much smaller fingers.

...

The couple met with Wynne on the trip back to the inn. The elderly mage had a slight glint in her eye but said nothing as they made their way across town. Before entering the inn, Alistair stopped abruptly, yanking slightly on Allana as their hands were still linked.

"Ali?"

He released her hand and walked through the entryway, Allana following close behind him. The tension in the air was nearly touchable. Both Loghain and Alistair had hands on swords, prepared to draw.

"Alistair," Riordan said in surprise.

"Yes," he said after a moment.

"Pack up for the march to Redcliffe," Riordan said simply before turning to retire to his room.

"I wish to stay in Denirim," Alistair pleaded, "To defend the city against the Blight."

"The Wardens will march together. Our numbers are too few to separate. Now, prepare to march to Redcliffe," Riordan replied dismissively.

Alistair growled, "I will not march with him as a brother."

"Then do not think of him as a brother. Take the aid where you have it, Alistair," Riordan said before slipping upstairs.

Allana could almost see the electricity between the gazes of Alistair and Loghain, though both sets of eyes were barely visible through narrow slits. "Come, Ali," she said softly before pulling him upstairs. He followed, not taking his eyes off the new warden until Allana's door closed behind him.

Alistair slumped onto her bed, forehead cradled in his hands. He sighed. He felt the mattress shift slightly as she sat beside him.

"Your pack. . . " Allana started, "I had to let go of anything I couldn't carry."

"Scavengers were picking it over a day ago," he hissed.

"I didn't expect you to come back," she admitted, "Though I hoped you would. I kept your valuables. We can share my tent and bedroll-"

"Who said I'd want to?" he growled.

"Or we can can go purchase new equipment," she sighed.

Alistair chuckled lightly, "I'm fine sharing with you, 'Lana."

"Oh," she said after a moment. She moved off the bed and kneeled beside her pack, unbuckling it quickly. She pulled out the bundle of his valuables and handed it over to him with both hands. The velvet pouch slipped out, falling with a loud thud to the floor. Allana quickly picked it up and stood to hand it over to him.

Alistair shook his head. "That's yours," he said with a grin.

"No it's not," she said, placing the pouch in his lap.

Alistair removed his armored gloves and opened the pouch. He took Allana's hand in his own and carefully removed the leather glove. "I meant to give this to you before the Landsmeet," he began, speaking so quietly that Allana could barely hear him. His hand was shaking. He removed the wooden box and flipped the latch to reveal the tiny silver band. "I was so scared. I never wanted to be king. It meant I could never be with you." He squeezed her tiny hand. "I was going to ask you to run away with me, after the Blight," he admitted. "Leave somewhere and marry and live happily ever after." He held the ring in the hand not intertwined with hers. He looked up at her.

Allana shook her head. "I won't run away with you," she started. Alistair shut his eyes tightly and pulled away with her. Allana pulled his face toward her. "We won't need to run," she whispered as she took the ring from his hand and placed it on her finger.

"Does this mean. . .?"

"Yes."


End file.
